


14-Love Letters 4 & 5

by WritestuffLee



Series: The Warrior's Heart, Volume 4, The Long Shadow [14]
Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, M/M, POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-10
Updated: 2007-07-10
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:34:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritestuffLee/pseuds/WritestuffLee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The complications of the No Attachments rule.</p>
            </blockquote>





	14-Love Letters 4 & 5

_ _

_My Dear Padme,_

_I wanted to thank you on behalf of the four of us for the invitation to your inauguration. Despite the fact that it turned into something of a working holiday, Qui-Gon, Jicky, Anakin, and I enjoyed ourselves very much. Your home is lovely and your people took very good care of us, especially our young ones. I believe both of them made some new friends during our stay._

_And I, too, very much enjoyed our turn on the dance floor. It was a pleasure seeing you again in peaceful circumstances, and to have some time to get to know you better. I hope our paths will cross again when you take up your post here on Coruscant. I'm afraid I'm not on-planet often when I'm in field rotation, but I'd be delighted to see you when I am. You are always welcome wherever Qui-Gon and I are._

_With warmest regards,_

_Obi-Wan Kenobi_

Obi-Wan put the brush down and reviewed what he'd written, frowning. It was difficult to walk that line between warmth and mere politeness, to express one sincere emotion while implying nothing more. Easier to do it in person, with the nuances of body language, expression, and speech than in the black and white of written communiques. Harder still in electronic messages, which was why Obi-Wan had taken the time to hand-write his missive. In Basic, his hand was not nearly so artistic as it was in Danjii—which allowed for larger, freer strokes—and his handwriting was not what it had been, either. But he felt Padme's own handwritten note deserved the respect of an equal effort, rather than just an electronic reply. Technically, it needed no reply at all. Obi-Wan wondered for a moment why he was writing one. Because, despite his own scruples, he was.

He'd known Padme had decided to pursue him when she'd first hugged him on their arrival on Naboo. It had been a “sticky” hug, a little too long for a friend, far too long for an acquaintance, downright rude in strictly diplomatic terms. But, while Padme was indeed a charming, intelligent, and lovely young woman, Obi-Wan felt no attraction for her beyond friendship, not even as much as he'd felt at odd times for Siri, whom he realized annoyed him precisely because he found her attractive. Nor had there had been any spark of chemistry with Padme like the one Bruck's friend Suri had once ignited in him. It was clearly not an issue of gender. Obi-Wan knew himself not to be that particular, unlike Bruck, who had a clear preference and a rare exception to the rule. There was, despite Qui-Gon's matchmaking, no true attraction on his side of the Naberrie/Kenobi equation, and he wanted to make that clear, for her sake.

And Qui-Gon's matchmaking was another thing that disturbed him. Now that Bruck and Isa had paired off and all of them were knighted, Obi-Wan and Bruck saw far less of each other than before. Once Isa had passed her own trials the half-year before, she and Bruck—knighted just shortly before her—had in fact decided to share quarters, as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon did. Obi-Wan couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Bruck alone, or when they'd gone clubbing together, with or without Isa. While he missed Bruck, sometimes very much, Obi-Wan knew they would always be close. And it was good to see how happy he was with Isa—as happy, it seemed, as Obi-Wan himself was with the man he loved.

Obi-Wan appreciated his former master's advice, and he agreed that Padme was a valuable connection to have, but the matchmaking aspect annoyed him. Qui-Gon was an odd mix of self-confidence and insecurity, not as a Jedi, but as Obi-Wan's lover. Another who did not know him as well might have thought Qui-Gon had a thing for threesomes, or that there was some part of him pushing Obi-Wan away, when it was neither of those that made Qui-Gon encourage Obi-Wan's interest in other partners. Obi-Wan knew it for what it was: Qui-Gon's memory of his own loneliness and the hope he could spare his lover that experience. Obi-Wan also suspected it was, despite protestations to the contrary, Qui-Gon's way of curbing his own sense of attachment.

Unlike Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan was not at all sure he would outlive his partner, especially now that the older man was on teaching rotation and given only the mildest of diplomatic assignments. Obi-Wan's missions since his knighthood had been at least as, if not far more dangerous than, anything he had done as Qui-Gon's apprentice. Jicky's presence would curb that trend for a time, but once she was a bit older and better trained, they would both probably find themselves in the thick of things once again, as he and Qui-Gon had been. If they worked as well together as he and Qui-Gon had, that would be even more likely. And the things they would be in the thick of, he suspected, would be far more violent and dangerous than even his own apprenticeship had been, with Palpatine in power. Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan felt, was just as liable to end up widowed as he.

And yet Obi-Wan was writing this damned letter. He frowned at it again.

 _And I, too, very much enjoyed our turn on the dance floor_.

Well, he had enjoyed it, that much was true. But he had enjoyed dancing with Qui-Gon later that night so much more. In Padme's arms, dancing Arigo had been a paired kata, something he'd always enjoyed as an exercise in precision. As was the dance's nature (and Obi-Wan's own, he supposed, trying to be honest) it had been somewhat erotic, which was no doubt why Padme had asked Obi-Wan to dance it with her. Delia Organa, with whom he had danced at her brother Bail's inauguration, had been the more skilled and inventive partner, but Padme had put more heat into their dance. He'd heard the murmurs when they'd left the cleared floor. But there had been a clear contrast between his Arigo with Padme and the later one with Qui-Gon, despite the big man's recent wound. That memory brought a pleasant flush to Obi-Wan's face and groin.

No comparison, really.

_It was a pleasure seeing you again in peaceful circumstances, and to have some time to get to know you better._

Yet it had been a pleasure to see Padme again. Though she was a little more than a decade younger than he, Obi-Wan recognized qualities in her that he admired. She had a keen intelligence and a steely resolve that belied her delicate features. There was a physical toughness to her that he admired as well; in his arms, her body had been nearly as lithe and muscular as most Jedi. He knew from experience she could take care of herself almost as well as one, and with almost as little fear. Padme was both capable and ambitious.

Perhaps that was why he found himself a little leery of her attention. Like most Jedi, especially those whose work was or had been heavily diplomatic, he had an innate distrust of politicians, and Padme was clearly a politician.

_I hope our paths will cross again when you take up your post here on Coruscant._

Not exactly a lie, but not quite the truth, either. It would be no hardship to see or be seen with Padme again. He had a feeling that with Anakin around, they might be seeing quite a lot of her, in fact, and the thought didn't disturb him. But Obi-Wan would let her come to them. Despite Qui-Gon's advice, this was not a relationship he was going to pursue as anything but a casual friendship, at least for the present. Whether that would be true in the future was another matter, whatever Qui-Gon thought.

Obi-Wan sealed the letter, addressed it, and put it aside. His next project was an equally difficult note to thank Senator Bail Organa for their dinner the previous evening. That had been a different animal altogether. They had met to discuss the progress of the investigation into the Agency's role in interrogations on Isani, but it had turned into a far more wide-ranging and much longer and deeper conversation than either had planned. Obi-Wan had crept into bed well past even his usual late hour, flushed with both liquor and pleasure. By the time he woke the next morning, both Qui-Gon and Jicky had already started their days without him, leaving him to attend to his correspondence alone.

 _Dear Senator Organa_ , Obi-Wan began, then frowned yet again, recycled the sheet and took a fresh one.

_Dear Bail,_

_Thank you again for your efforts on behalf of the Isani and, peripherally, myself. As I said, I've lost my desire for revenge, but not for justice, so I'm glad to see the investigation going forward. I'm not surprised it's come as far as it has with Garen's aid. He's always been a stickler for details and tenacious when he gets something by the tail. I'm glad to hear he's been so invaluable._

_As it will be several tens yet before I'm fit for duty, and I'm more myself than I was when you saw me after my testimony, I'd be happy to assist you in any way I can. The only duties I have presently involve my new padawan, so my schedule is fairly uncluttered at the moment. Consider me more or less at your disposal._

Obi-Wan paused and read over what he'd written, wondering if that last line was a bit too forward. Not in that context, he decided, though it was perhaps not politically wise to state it so baldly. But now came the tricky bit.

_I also wanted to thank you for dinner last night. Both food and company were highly enjoyable._

Obi-Wan stopped there, pondering. And remembering. Bail had invited him to his private apartment, not far from the Senate building in one of the towers favored by government officials. Though Organa was only the junior senator for Alderaan, his family was quite wealthy, like Obi-Wan's, and the apartment had been grand. The meal, though, had been simple yet quite delicious, much like something Obi-Wan would prepare himself. He'd been surprised when Bail had said he'd cooked it himself. Like Obi-Wan, he found it relaxing, and did it as often as possible. They had eaten at a small table on the balcony, taking in the spectacular view as night fell. The talk had been light during dinner, and turned more serious afterwards, when they had come inside again, into Bail's study. Once it had gone on to more general topics, they moved again into the vast livingroom, settling into comfortable chairs with snifters of Corellian brandy and facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. There, full of Corellian brandy, he'd admitted to Bail his initial desire for vengeance, and some of his fears. His own openness had surprised him, but he still wasn't certain whether it had been due to the liquor or Bail himself. He and Bail had talked and talked into the night. The man had a sharp mind, a sly sense of humor, and a clear-eyed sense of what he was up against as a politician who was determined not to compromise his own principles while working in a corrupt system. Obi-Wan was also impressed with Bail's very genuine compassion.

He very much reminded Obi-Wan of a certain Jedi Master, in fact. And unlike with Padme, there was a definite spark there, at least on Obi-Wan's end. Hard to say if Bail felt any attraction. Like Qui-Gon, he had a very good sabaac face.

_It's been some time since I enjoyed a meeting as much as I did ours. Indeed, I enjoyed the whole evening, despite the graveness of some of the topics we covered. Both the food and the company more than made up for it. I hope to repeat the experience on more casual terms, though I realize both of us have impossible schedules._

There, he'd made clear his interest and offered a gracious way out at the same time. Well, then.

_Please let me know if I can be of any more assistance in your investigation, and thank you again for such a pleasant evening._

_Obi-Wan_

Feeling vaguely guilty and for no good reason, he sealed this letter too and put it aside with Padme's for delivery. Where Qui-Gon found them when he returned for midmeal.

“I take it your dinner with Bail went well?”

How could Qui-Gon make such an innocent query sound salacious? Obi-Wan flushed, which only made Qui-Gon grin the wider. “Impossible man,” Obi-Wan murmured, accepting a conciliatory kiss. “Yes, it went quite well, since you ask. We had a long, delightful conversation. Bail's an interesting man. Did I wake you coming in?”

“No, but it must have been quite late.”

“You didn't wait up, did you?”

“Couldn't sleep. No warm, wriggly body beside me.”

Exasperated, Obi-Wan threw up his hands. “One moment you're pairing me up with some available young thing, and the next you're complaining you can't sleep when I'm gone. Which is it, Qui?”

Qui-Gon looked contrite. “I'm sorry, love. I suppose it is a rather mixed message. I'll stop meddling.” Obi-Wan watched a sudden thought cross his lover's face, one that involved both epiphany and horror. “I'm just as bad as Yoda, aren't I?” Qui-Gon covered his eyes.

Obi-Wan laughed. “Yes, you are. As the master, so the padawan. But at least you're not small and green. And your syntax is considerably better. But yes, you meddle just as much as he does. Come here, you old fool. Don't look so tragic.”

Qui-Gon moved into his arms and they shared a sweet, affectionate kiss of nibbles and licks that ended with the older man whispering in Obi-Wan's ear: “I know for a fact that Jicky is eating midmeal in the refectory.”

Obi-Wan whispered back: “And I know for a fact she has a class immediately afterwards. How would you like to be fucked, Master Jinn?” He ground against Qui-Gon's groin, grinning at how hard they both were already, just from a kiss.

“Bent under you, and quickly,” Qui-Gon growled.

Obi-Wan pushed him toward the bedroom while unfastening his pants. Qui-Gon was out of his own and up on the bed in a hot minute, as Obi-Wan found the lube and followed him, kneeling between his legs. Qui-Gon arched his back and thrust a bolster beneath his hips. Obi-Wan's hands slid up behind his lover's knees, lifting and spreading them, resting the calves on his shoulders. With a handful of lube, Obi-Wan slicked his cock and started to slowly press himself into Qui-Gon, letting him adjust along the way. Qui-Gon groaned and squirmed against him.

“Faster, damn you! I want all of you, now!”

“Greedy,” Obi-Wan observed, and then obliged in a hard thrust that made his partner shout and buck.

Once inside, Obi-Wan leaned over him, hooking Qui-Gon's knees over his elbows, bending him double, and setting a fast and brutal rhythm. He angled each thrust over the big man's prostate, sending a wracking shudder through the long body; he relished the deep, helpless moans coming out of Qui-Gon's throat. When Qui-Gon reached for his own cock, Obi-Wan snarled, “don't touch yourself. You'll come when I let you.”

“Yes, Master,” Qui-Gon gasped, scrabbling at the bed linens. In a very short time, he was nearly frantic, bucking up against Obi-Wan with harsh gasps, big hands clenched in the linens to keep from touching himself. And then Obi-Wan stopped, hovering above him, trembling.

Qui-Gon threw back his head in an anguished groan. “No, please—please . . . please, Master!”

“Touch yourself,” Obi-Wan panted, and started again, more slowly at first, then matching Qui-Gon's desperate rhythm. With just a few more quick thrusts, Qui-Gon was coming hard, his muscles spasming around Obi-Wan, who followed him over the precipice with his own cry of “oh, gods, Qui!”

Trembling, he let himself down onto Qui-Gon's chest, as long legs tangled in his own and long arms pulled him close. When they'd found their breath again, Qui-Gon chuckled. “We'll both have to change completely. I've come all over my tunics and you're lying in it.”

Obi-Wan echoed the laugh. “A small price for glory,” he sighed, nuzzling Qui-Gon's neck. “I can't think of anyone I'd rather do this with.”

“Nor I, love.”

Obi-Wan levered himself up again and looked straight into Qui-Gon's eyes, deep blue and now hooded with satiation. “Then you'll stop matchmaking.”

“I will. On the condition that you know you're free to come and go as you like, with anyone you like.”

“Well, you're who I like,” Obi-Wan grumbled, and sank down against Qui-Gon again. “Every bit of you. Dinners with attractive senators notwithstanding.”

Qui-Gon chuckled again and kissed him. “Very well, then. Make as free with me as you like.”

Obi-Wan snorted, and sighed, and nestled against him. Qui-Gon held him quietly. Both of them wished it were possible to stay like this always.


End file.
